The Little Things in Life
by Rinnalaiss
Summary: 100 Prompts. Phil Coulson has a life outside of SHIELD. It's tough to maintain: all the on-call, travel, and the secretive nature of the organization. But when work is so all-consuming, it's the little things in his personal life that keep him grounded. Like Laura, the one woman who's willing to stick around and put up with the long-distance. Phil/OC. Lots of fluff! Now rated M.
1. Tongue-Tied

_August 13__th__, 2005_

Intellectually, Phil Coulson knew that texting and driving was a Very Bad Thing. Texting and driving in a city was even worse. But he couldn't change where he was and his operative couldn't give a verbal report.

…which was why he wasn't entirely surprise when he felt a thud.

"Shit," he cursed, and when the traffic light turned green, he followed the white sedan to the curbside and stepped out.

"You hit me."

Phil was not expecting the other driver to be so direct and was stunned for a moment. "Uh." _Real intelligent, Phil._

The woman crossed her arms. "The light was red, and you hit me."

She was impeccably dressed. Her dress was tailored and to the knee and she had an identification tag attached to the belt around her waist but he couldn't read where she worked. With the shoes she was wearing, they were almost the same height. Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail presumably to combat the brutal humidity of a D.C. August.

He shifted his weight as she walked around him to inspect the damage to the car. "I'm really sorry about this. It was completely my fault."

He thought he heard her mutter, "but I just paid this off" as she flipped her phone open to start taking pictures of the dent, but he might have been mistaken.

Phil frowned in concern. "Are you okay? You weren't hurt, were you?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Late for a meeting, but not hurt. You?"

He grimaced. "Embarrassed, but otherwise fine."

Pausing in her picture taking, she turned to him and took in the suit. She quirked an eyebrow. "Late for a meeting, too?"

He chuckled. "Something like that. So… how do you want to do this?"

She shrugged. "Look, you seem like a nice guy. Professional. But nothing against you—I'd prefer to go through the insurance companies."

Phil nodded. "That's fine. And I won't hold it against you if you want to file a police report."

She gave him a look that said _are you for real?_

"I made a mistake and I take ownership of it," he responded with a small grin. "I fix mistakes. It's kinda my thing."

She laughed, but he could tell she was unsure of how to take that comment.

He fished in his breast pocket for a business card and a pen. After he wrote down the name of the insurance company that SHIELD used on the back along with his off-hours phone number, he handed it to her.

"If you need anything," he began, "I can be reached at any of these numbers. My policy is with the company on the back of the card."

She walked back to the backseat door and pulled a leather portfolio out of a professional looking tote bag. Opening it, she removed her own business card and scribbled on the back.

She handed it to him. "The insurance company's name is on the back."

Phil took it and pocketed it. "Again, I'm really sorry about this whole thing."

She smiled genuinely, "Hey, like we decided earlier—none of us is hurt, so it's a good day." It was a really pretty smile, he thought.

He returned the smile and nodded. "Do you want me to give you a call when I've spoken to my insurance agent?"

She nodded. "Yes, that'd be great. Thank you."

He extended his hand and she took it in a firm shake. "I'll talk to you soon."

With another smile, she responded, "Talk soon."

They returned to their vehicles, and Phil watched as she drove off. When her car disappeared into the traffic on Pennsylvania Ave., he fished out her business card.

_Laura Schulz, Ph.D., C.A._

_Archivist_

_Center for Legislative Archives_

_National Archives and Records Administration_

Huh. So she was educated and had a clear interest in history and politics. She also maintained control of the situation by keeping him on his toes during the entire interaction. _And_ she was pretty.

Phil had some research to do.

* * *

A Level 2 agent handed him a memo at 5:00 that afternoon, and Phil accepted it with a nod. As he flipped through it, he took note of important things. Laura Schulz, born February 17, 1970, joined the National Archives and Records Administration as a student technician in 1993 while getting a dual Masters in history and archives management. Following completion of the program, she was hired there full time and entered a history Ph.D. program, which she completed while working at NARA.

Currently, Phil noted, she's worked professionally in two different departments in the agency. In the first, she and her team were responsible for declassifying government records. For this function, she was granted Top Secret security clearance, which she still maintains. In 2003, she was promoted and transferred to the Center for Legislative Archives as Senior Archivist.

He flipped to the last page to the summary of other public records. Schulz was married in 1999 and divorced in 2003. She had a spotless driving record, but police were called to her place of residence twice for domestic disturbances. The agent who compiled the memo noted that the first time precipitated the divorce proceedings and the second happened during. The second incident was her husband threatening her to withdraw the divorce papers. She then filed a restraining order on him.

Well… the Top Secret clearance was a definite plus.

He fished out his personal cell and punched in her number. "Dr. Schulz? This is Phil Coulson. From this afternoon? I spoke with my insurance agent and he's ready to work with your company to pay the claim."

Phil paused, and listened to her talk. When she was done, he cut in. "Actually, before you hang up. I was wondering, uh, if might possibly, uh," _Words, Phil… use your words_, "be interested in getting dinner—or drinks!—sometime." He plowed on, "See, I feel really bad about the accident and I want to personally make it up to you and… Friday night? Uh, yeah. Yes! Friday night works great! I'll get reservations somewhere and let you know. Wonderful. Yes, I'll talk to you soon. Okay. Bye."

That went much better than he anticipated. Now to set up those dinner reservations.

He knew just the place.

* * *

A/N: So _The Winter Soldier_ spawned a massive fic idea. Like the summary says, this is going to be a reinterpretation of the cellist mentioned in _Avengers_. For some motivation, I decided to use an old prompt table from lj. At the moment, it looks like the chapters are going to be episodic, rather than continuous and they probably will be out of order. It's early yet, so that might change.

This starts pre-Iron Man and will continue through The Winter Soldier and Agents of SHIELD, so there will be spoilers for that.

The last notice is that these are definitely movie!verse because I haven't read any of the comics.

Disclaimer: Don't own. This is purely for my own entertainment. Also texting and driving is the worst idea ever. Don't do it.


	2. Sway

Phil and Laura were on a date.

He had just returned from an extended assignment in Belarus. Laura, of course, didn't know where he was, but they had exchanged the occasional email when he had access to a secure server. He surprised her after work on Thursday, and she was able to put in leave for Friday. This was really the first time they left the bedroom of her Bethesda home that weekend.

"I really missed you, Phil," she murmured as she leaned into him. They were enjoying a post-dinner stroll along the Tidal Basin, the rising full moon shining brightly in the water.

Phil put his arm around her shoulders. "I know. But look at it this way: at least I should be staying local for a while. Unless shit happens. They don't give distance assignments close together unless someone requests it or shit happens."

She pulled away and punched him lightly in the arm. "Phil! Don't jinx it! I just got you back and I don't want to have to send you off again so soon!"

He pulled her back to him and kissed her temple. "I'm here for at least another couple of weeks."

Laura hugged him. "Good."

As they approached the Basin entrance closest to the Washington Monument, they heard music. Three men likely close to college age had set up instruments and were playing, and they were playing quite well.

They stood listening for a while when Phil turned to her. "Would you like to dance?"

"What? Here?"

He shrugged. "Why not? There's music."

She put her hand in his. "Sure."

Phil put his free hand on her waist and pulled her close. As he began vague steps of a waltz, Laura rested her head on his shoulder. Eventually, they ignored the steps completely and slowed down to just swaying to the music.

When she looked up at him, he felt something stir inside.

Apparently she noticed. "Let's go home," she suggested in his ear with a knowing smile.

He laughed quietly. "That sounds like a great idea."

They each dropped some bills in the open case and were acknowledged by the musicians with nods and smiles of thanks. Then, they walked arm-in-arm towards the Smithsonian Metro station to make their way back home.


	3. Sticks and Stones

May 23, 2009

"_Have you gone absolutely batshit?"_

Phil stood there, hands clasped behind his back, with his trademark mild facial expression just because he knew it would piss Fury off even more. "You've completely lost your mind!"

Fury stood behind his desk, fist planted firmly on the surface. His single eye flashed in anger. "If we let everyone read in their girlfriend, the whole world would know what we do. I don't need to tell you what a fucking circus our lives would be if that happened."

"I'm not sure what the problem is. She already has the highest civilian security clearance; she's been declassifying documents, which means she's likely seen some of our less dark records. Besides, we need help with records management. We need someone to come in and make sure we're doing it right. Contracting out to her lets her be read in." He paused. "Besides, I've updated my file to list her as my next of kin. I don't want her lied to if something happens to me."

"Phil, I don't give a rat's ass."

He opened his mouth to object, but Fury overrode him. "That doesn't mean you've not made a good argument. I'm not giving an answer now because I don't like the precedent this could set. Dr. Schulz may in fact be qualified, but I can't just read people into SHIELD just because agents want to talk to their flavor of the week."

Phil crossed his arms, mouth pressed into a firm line. "Nick, you know that's not the case here and I would ask that you not say such things to me again."

The director raised his eyebrows, but Phil stood firm. Then he sighed, "Go back to work, Phil. We'll talk about this later."

Phil nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Fury called out after him. "Not a word of this to her, Phil."

He nodded again. "Yes, sir." Then he quickly exited.

That didn't go quite as he had hoped, but it wasn't a no. And that was almost a good thing.


	4. Museum

_March 27, 2008_

Phil could hear Laura approach when she was still about ten feet away but let her sneak up on him anyway.

She kissed his cheek from behind. "Guess who."

He rose from the bench where he was watching people on the National Mall and gave her a proper peck on the lips. "Hi."

Laura pulled away with a smile and sat down next to him. "So how long are you here this time?"

He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. "I only have thirty-six hours."

She frowned, then stood and pulled him up with her. "C'mon. If I only have you for about 20 of those hours, I have to show you something."

Phil walked with her down the Mall and across Constitution Ave. to the National Archives. After flashing her badge with a "Hey, Joe, he's with me" they were waved through security. After going up a flight of stairs and threw a few restricted access doors, Phil found himself in a dimly lit exhibit space.

Laura flipped a light switch and spread her arms out. "My baby's finished!"

He looked around, impressed. He'd been hearing about this project for several months. She was in charge of this year's Congress Week and she chose as her exhibit theme The Importance of Congressional Hearings. There were pieces on the McCarthy Hearings, school integration, hearings following the Lincoln and Kennedy assassinations… and then Phil saw it.

There had been committee hearings on Captain America. His legs moved almost of the own accord over to the display. According to it, there were several hearings following his disappearance, but they were mostly about whether or not to recycle the image for propaganda value and whether or not to expend the resources to help Howard Stark in his expeditions to find him.

He noted there was no reference to HYDRA or Erskine's serum, but then he remembered that only SHIELD had record of that and that the records that others had were still classified.

Laura came up next to him and put her arm around his waist in a sideways hug. "So what do you think?"

Phil's eyes, which had been fixed on the display of photographs and brightly colored propaganda posters and other memorabilia moved to hers.

"It's amazing!"

* * *

A/N: Just a note—this does take place before SHIELD recovers Steve Rogers from the ice.


	5. Practical

_March 2009_

Phil's heart beat a rapid staccato. He had a reputation for being one of the coolest heads SHIELD had. He'd withstood interrogations and hardly blinked at oncoming assaults. In the face of aggressive arrogance, he was a mildly raised eyebrow.

But here he was, sitting in his car in the driveway of the home he'd essentially moved into, fretting. He exhaled bracingly, having decided that _he was a SHIELD agent, dammit_, and not some kid asking a girl out for the first time. And so, he got out of the car and strode purposefully up the porch steps and through the front door.

Dropping his keys on the table, he called out, "I'm home!"

"In the kitchen!" Laura called back.

Phil followed the aroma down the hall, past the formal living room where the Laura kept her cello (and still practiced on occasion, which he greatly enjoyed), and into the kitchen. He spied several pots on the stove, and Laura was elbows deep in a bowl of ground beef.

"Oh! Spaghetti?" he asked as he put a hand on the small of her back and kissed her in greeting.

She leaned into the embrace. "Mhmm! And I had time to make homemade sauce today!"

"It smells delicious!" He rolled up his sleeves and started to help pack the beef and spices mixture into bite-sized meatballs. By the time they scraped the bottom of the bowl and put the tray into the oven to bake, Phil had worked up the nerve to bring up the topic he wanted to talk about.

"Can we talk?"

Laura rinsed her hands in the sink. "Sure. What's going on?"

He led her into the den and when they were settled on the couch, he took her hand in his. Absentmindedly brushing circles onto her palm with his thumb, he figured out what he wanted to say.

Phil took a breath. "I really like where we are…together. We've had _really great_ times… and we've had some rough times." He briefly flashed back to their brief separation. "But over the years we've been able to pull through together."

He watched as she smiled softly. "And I don't know where we're going to be years from now, but I plan to stick around."

She squeezed his hand. "Me too."

He smiled back. "I wanted to check with you before I changed anything."

"Changed?" she asked.

_Here goes_. "I wanted to amend my personnel records and name you my next of kin."

Laura froze and Phil watched as emotions flitted across her face. He imagined that she was going over all the implications and possible scenarios where she would be needed in that capacity.

Then she smiled shakingly. "Yeah, yes! I'm… I'm in a much better head space than… you know when."

He nodded, comprehending.

She continued. "And I'm really happy that you're asking and telling me this now, rather than having me find out when you're," she shook her head, "wounded on assignment or something. Y'know, if you asked me 5 years ago if I thought I had more maturing to do, I would have laughed at you. But after that…" Phil noticed she wouldn't talk about what happened. "I matured a lot. I can do what you need me to do for that now."

Phil didn't say anything in response. Instead, he pulled her close and kissed her slowly and deeply. She leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he shifted his weight to press her into the couch. One of his hands slipped underneath her silk blouse and ghosted over her stomach. He drifted upward and stroked the front of her bra. She started making very enthusiastic sounds and his movements got bolder.

The timer on the stove went off.

Laura pulled away with a frustrated groan and he rested his forehead against hers. "To be continued?"

He leaned in to kiss her again.

"Phil!" She swatted him and pushed him off her good-naturedly. "You keep doing that and dinner will be ruined!"

He conceded. "Fine."

She smiled and walked into the kitchen with an extra sway in her hips.

Phil groaned.


	6. Snow Storm

_February 4, 2010_

Somehow, Phil didn't know how but he praised anyone who could be listening, he was pulled off Tony Stark for an extended weekend and was able to return to the District for a bit. By the time Laura picked him up at Dulles, he was beginning to wonder if he might have been better off staying in New York: a blizzard was bearing down on the region and it looked like it would be a doozy.

When they got back to Laura's car, he automatically went to the driver's side. Laura hated driving in poor weather conditions, and since he had experience driving dangerous roads, he automatically drove. This ended up being a good thing, since Phil could feel the wheels sliding ever so slightly on the already-slick road. By the time he pulled into their driveway, there was nearly two inches of snow on the ground and visibility was next to nothing.

As they shook off the snow in the garage, Laura mentioned, "I have some stew all ready and keeping warm on the stove."

"That sounds amazing right now! You had time to make it?"

Laura nodded and he followed her into the house. "Yeah, OPM called closures late last night so I didn't have to go in today. I probably could have put in a half day, but I'm not going to complain about a free day off!"

Phil chuckled with her as they went up to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.

"So how's Tony Stark been?" Laura asked, shimmying on a pair of sweatpants.

He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging. "He's a pig-headed pain in the ass."

Laura snorted.

Phil raised an eyebrow. "You haven't met him."

"Oh, I don't need to. I've seen him on tv," she called from the bathroom where she was running a wet comb through her hair.

He pulled on his own sweats. "Actually, Pepper wants to meet you."

She walked out of the bathroom, an incredulous expression on her face. "_Pepper Potts_ wants to meet me?"

"Well, remember when she tried to set me up with someone she knew? Stop laughing- it wasn't funny at the time! Anyway since I told her we were together, she's been after me to meet you."

Pulling on one of his old SHIELD t-shirts, Laura nodded. "Well, from what you've shared about her, she sounds lovely. I'd love to meet her!"

Phil grasped her wrist and pulled her close with a smile. "You realize that means you're going to have to meet Stark then, right? He finds out I'm not single and that Pepper's met you, he's going to be insufferable until he meets you himself."

Laura laughed, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Please, I've dealt with people just as jumped up as Tony Stark."

He kissed her back. "Yeah I know. Just forewarning you."

Suddenly, there was a _crack_ and a _thud_, and a moment later the lights went out.

Phil, pulled away, suddenly alert. "Stay here."

As he approached the window, Laura whispered, "It's probably just the snow. A tree branch fell on a power line or something."

"I'm going to look around." He took his off-duty weapon with him, just in case. He was grateful that Laura recognized he was in 'Agent Coulson' mode and didn't question him. Sure, he was probably being paranoid and she was right and it was just a downed power line. But there was a reason he was still alive and it wasn't because he was in a habit of ignoring his instincts.

He silently cleared each room and then checked the snowfall from the window in the living room. The snow was coming down hard and there was easily four or five inches on the ground now.

_Wonderful._ They were going to get snowed in.

When he returned to the bedroom he found Laura sitting patiently on the bed. Phil raised a brow at the baseball bat that was within her easy reach. She shrugged in response.

"It looks like we're going to get snowed in. Are we good for food for a few days?"

Laura nodded. "Yeah, when I saw the forecast I went to the store… with the rest of humanity. Anyway, we're good. Having a gas stove is wonderful for times like this."

Phil started gathering up blankets. "Let's get some stuff down to the den. We're going to want to be in front of the fire tonight."

"Ooh! Cozy!" She picked up an armful of pillows and followed him downstairs.

As Phil set about starting a fire, Laura lit some candles for more light. Over dinner, they chatted about mundane things: him sharing what he could about following Tony Stark around, her about the panel talk she moderated with women members of Congress the other day. They were interrupted when her cell phone rang. He watched as she took it into the kitchen. It wasn't anything serious, just a neighbor checking in on them.

Not for the first time, Phil considered just how lucky he was. Here was a woman he loved and who loved him back equally. It was a marvelous existence. He got up to clear the dishes. When Laura got off the phone, he was back at the couch waiting for her.

"C'mere," he gestured.

She snuggled up next to him and he pulled blankets around them. As he pulled her into his arms, he wished it could just stay this way— just the two of them, in front of a fire and watching the snow fall.

* * *

**A/N: Yes this is Snowmageddon. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, it was a massive blizzard in February 2010 that crippled Washington, D.C. and the region.)**

**Also, thanks for all the support! You all are wonderful! Please drop me a review so I know what you think!**


	7. Home Alone

_May 2011_

_Laura POV_

Laura was shaking, but she was _so fucking happy_ Phil taught her the basics of shooting a gun.

"Laura!"

"Ma'am, this is a crime scene-"

Laura looked up from where she was sitting the the back of an ambulance to see Natasha Romanoff looking like she was about to throw the police officer to the ground.

"Nat!" Laura called out. "Officer would you please let her through?"

She watched as Natasha glared at the woman who begrudgingly let her through.

"What happened?" The spy's voice brooked no nonsense.

Laura took a shaky breath. "There was a break in. I woke up to the sound of movement or something downstairs. I thought it was just the house settling or something. I don't know. But then I heard it again so I took the bat and decided to look around."

Natasha's brow furrowed. "Didn't Phil give you a gun?"

Laura's nerves were way too frazzled to let the slightly accusatory tone slide. "For fuckssake, Nat! I'm an archivist! I don't automatically assume that every little noise is a ninja out to kill me! Besides, I've got a better swing than I do a shot."

Romanoff smirked, clearly recalling the softball tournament scrapbook she once found in Laura and Phil's guest bedroom.

Laura deflated, adrenaline wearing off and suddenly exhausted. "There was a guy sitting at the computer. I tried to get the jump on him, but he must have had super hearing. I clocked him good in the side before he knocked me on my ass. He pulled out a gun and I tried the leg-sweepy thing you've been having me practice. It got him off balance enough that I could get up and throw a lamp at him."

Natasha snorted.

"I just kept throwing things at him. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess somewhere I was thinking that if I could distract him enough I could get the gun away. I'm not sure I thought I could get away. The whole thing is a bit of a blur. I got the gun away from him and I shot. I knew it was going to be me or him."

"Did you kill him?"

Laura shook her head. "He was alive when they took him away. I'm surprised I hit him at all. I got four rounds off, but two of them went wide and totally missed. The other two hit him in the shoulder and the stomach."

The spy put her hand on Laura's shoulder. 'You did good. You're not trained to deal with these situations and you made it out. Depending on where you hit him in the shoulder, he may not be able to use that arm anymore. Besides, SHIELD is going to want to question him. If he was on your computer, he was after something specific." Her head suddenly snapped towards the detective writing down notes. "Detective! Do you still need her?"

The man walked over to them. "No. Ms. Schulz, will you be staying with your friend? We have your phone number but I'm going to want the address. So far, this is looking like justifiable self-defense, but we want to make sure you stay local."

Laura nodded as Natasha rattled off an address and then helped her into the car waiting outside the barricade.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Natasha's eyes kept to the road. "After you called Phil, he called me. I set it up with Pepper and we're staying in Stark's D.C. penthouse. The security is excellent and Phil doesn't want you alone."

"This didn't just happen because I was home alone. I'm a grown woman and I can clearly take care of myself," Laura grumbled.

"No, but this was not a random burglary. We don't know if this was about something you're doing at work, or if it has to do with Phil, so we need to make sure you're safe. Besides, Pepper's sending down a team of lawyers for you."

"_What?_"

Natasha shrugged. "You're family."

Laura didn't know how to respond to that. She considered Natasha and Pepper good friends, and Clint Barton as well to a lesser extent. She still thought Tony was an arrogant pain in the ass, but he could really pull through when he wanted to and she guessed he considered _her_ a friend. To hear that it was more than that was overwhelming.

"Thanks, Nat," she whispered.


	8. White Noise

**White Noise**

_February 2006_

Phil was in a state of semi-consciousness on Laura's couch. It had been a long, stressful day at work and she invited him over for a low key evening of comfort food and "let's just watch something _stupid_."

In the end, he had tentatively asked if she would play her cello. He had seen it set up in the living room, but had never heard her play it. He loved the cello- the richness of the tone soothed him in ways little else did.

She agreed with the disclaimer that while she still practiced relatively regularly, she was no professional.

He fought the impulse to close his eyes as she played the _Ave Maria_ because she was beautiful to watch. Her body flowed with the music. Even though she was wearing yoga pants and an old t-shirt, she was a marvel.

As she transitioned to the _Pie Jesu _from Requiem he gave a small smile, impressed that she read his desire to listen to classical pieces.

By the end of the melody, he was sound asleep, snoring gently.


	9. Painting

_June-July 2009_

Postcard: Berlin is great! Miss you! xxx

* * *

**From: pac64 **

**To: lschulzarch **

**No Subject**

Finally able to get a stable internet connection. Wanted to stream that talk you gave, but the connection here might as well be dial-up for all the good it does. We make it work. Work is work- lots of travel. I'll update when I can.

Thinking about you.

-P

* * *

**From: ****lschulzarch **

******To: pac64 **

**Re: No Subject**

Loved the postcard-gorgeous! I saw the Berlin Philharmonic when I studied abroad and it was amazing and got to practice my German with the first chair cellist. Still can't believe I got to do that.

Jodi, Bob, and the kids say hello. You know you're "Uncle Phil" now, right? They adore you. They're also convinced that "since you work for NASA" you hunt down aliens like in Men In Black. They forget (or don't care?) that those guys don't work for NASA. I thought it was adorable.

HOWEVER. What wasn't adorable was Tommy drawing on one of the walls in the den with Sharpie because guess who forgot to toddler-proof the house. So, I'm painting. Any preferences? And before you ask, no. I'm not making an accent wall that matches Captain America's uniform. Nope. Maybe for your office, but not the den. Other suggestions welcome :)

Anyway.

I know the whole work thing is… worky. And D-L. But just stay safe.

Love you,

Laura

* * *

**From: pac64 **

**To: lschulzarch **

**Re: re: No Subject**

For the record, I was NOT going to suggest we paint the den in Captain America's colors. I'll like whatever you choose. I trust your taste.

Tell the family I say hi back. And you can tell the kids "it's classified." They'll get a kick out of that. On second thought, you might have to define classified to them. Uncle Phil is good. Does this mean I can spoil them rotten? I could corrupt them, too.

Love you,

P

* * *

**From: ****lschulzarch **

******To: pac64 **

**Re: re: re: No Subject**

DON'T. YOU. DARE. I've got enough on my plate with Nat wanting to teach them Russian swears and Clint dropping by with nerf-guns when I've got babysitting duty. You've got tricky friends and I KNOW you're trickier. I draw the line at giving them pixi-stix 5 minutes before sending them home.

Also, check the attachment for the color sample. How does a pale green in the sage family sound?

Love you,

Laura

P.S.- Any chance you'll be home for your birthday?

* * *

**From: pac64 **

**To: lschulzarch **

**Re: re: re: re: No Subject**

Color looks great. I need to go dark. I'll contact when I can.

All my love.

P

* * *

**A/N: Due to formatting issues, just use your favorite email platform. Thanks everyone for your continued reviews, follows, favorites, and other support!**


	10. Dirty

_December 2005_

FYI: Mature Content

* * *

Phil's baser side applauded the decision to go blues dancing. When he found out Laura enjoyed this particular style of dance, he started making plans to ensure an entire night off so they could go to his favorite venue. He was especially pleased when she shrugged her pea coat off and he saw the back of her dress. Or lack thereof…

…She sashayed in so close to him that they were touching chest to pelvis, his leg in between hers. They swayed, the movement deep in their hips. He stroked the smooth skin of Laura's back as she kicked one leg back and then the other. He turned them in a circle, still pressed together.

The sensuality of the dance was positively _sinful._

Phil watched as she took her lower lip between her teeth and looked up at him, a wicked glint in her eyes. He twirled her out, and when she spun back in, she pressed her entire body to him then ground her hips into his in smooth, subtle circles. His breath hitched and he could feel his pants start to get tight. From the look on Laura's face, she could tell, too.

She tilted her head so she could whisper in his ear. "I have to say, this is the best foreplay I've ever had." His fingers pressed into her back harder. "If we're not careful, I might just ask you to fuck me right here."

Phil wasn't entirely sure how they got back to his apartment, but as soon as the door slammed shut, he picked her up and her legs wrapped around his waist. He deposited her on the counter top in the kitchen—their lips were still locked. She pushed his jacket off, and he slid her dress off her shoulders and down her arms while she unbuttoned his shirt.

When the top of her dress was pooled around her waist, Phil peeled off the cups she wore for support instead of a bra. He kissed his way along her jaw and down her neck, sucking and nipping where her neck met her collar bone and her pulse raced. She gasped—he knew she liked that.

By the time he took a nipple in his mouth, she had a hand threaded through his hair and gripping tight. Every sound of pleasure she made had him getting harder and harder until he had to pull away. He undid his pants, briefs and all, and pushed them down. But before he could step out of them, Laura had him grasped in her hand, stroking up and down as she nibbled on his earlobe.

Suddenly, Phil decided he didn't want to draw this out anymore and he slid her rear to the edge of the counter.

It wasn't the first time they'd had sex. It wasn't even the first time they hadn't made it to the bedroom. But when he entered her with a groan and heard her gasp of pleasure, it sent waves of pleasure down his spine as if it were indeed the first time.

The part of his brain that was still functioning recognized how they looked: Laura holding herself up from the counter top from his neck, her dress bunched in a band around her waist, his shirt unbuttoned but still on and his pants around his knees, her legs wrapped around his waist, strappy heels still on and lacy panties hanging from one ankle.

With that image in mind, he moved faster, his hips twisting in a way that drew a strangled cry from Laura.

She came first, clenching and gasping and mewling. He followed shortly after, forehead pressed against hers. They panted, still coming down from that high. He looked into Laura's eyes, her pupils still dilated. He slowly picked her up, himself still inside her. As he carried her into the bedroom, she rested her head against his shoulder.

Phil gently lay her on the bed and pulled out before undressing her and then himself. He climbed onto the bed next to her and pulled her to his side.

"Let's do that again," she whispered, not wanting to break the mood.

He kissed her slowly. "Of course. But let's just lay here for a while."

So they did.

* * *

**A/N: Ooohhh look at that! Rating change! Hope you all enjoyed it! Please let me know what you thought!**


	11. Wine

_October 2007_

_Laura POV_

"Long day?"

Laura looked up at the man who slid onto the barstool next to her. He was average height, compact and fit, and his look screamed military even though he was clearly attempting to look relaxed.

She smiled because he seemed friendly. "Yeah, you could say that." She drained the last of her wine.

He motioned the bartender over. "Can we have a refill of what she's having? And I'll have a Glenlivet, neat." The man nodded and poured their drinks.

"You didn't have to do that," Laura demurred.

He shrugged. "I know, but like I said, it looked like you had a long day."

Laura looked at him shrewdly. "I'm seeing someone."

Laughing he responded, "So am I. You don't have to worry about me trying to take you home tonight."

She laughed as well. "You know, that's refreshing! I'm Laura."

He shook her hand. "Clint." His hands were calloused and his grip firm.

"Pardon my asking, but are you in the military?"

Clint looked surprised. Laura gestured to her hair. "It's just…"

He touched the hair at his temples and chuckled. "Former Army. I'm with the, uh, U.S. Marshals now. I'm impressed you caught that! How about you? Wait! Let me guess… major nonprofit? Women's Issues group?"

Laura laughed. "I'm an archivist, actually. But if I wasn't doing that, you bet your ass I'd be over at EMILY'S List or NOW. So is your office here in D.C.?"

Clint shook his head. "Nah, Detroit. I'm visiting my girlfriend in New York, but I couldn't get a direct flight. I have a layover here just awkwardly long enough to take in a few sights."

"What does your girlfriend do?" Laura asked.

"She's… in insurance. Sure, it's not quite as sexy as being a U.S. Marshal, but she's good."

"How did you meet then?"

Clint took a sip of his drink. "We met in college but didn't get together until later. One of those reunion reconnection type deals. And what is it your boyfriend does?"

"He works for NASA, but," she shrugged, "most of what he does is a bit beyond my comprehension."

"NASA? Really? How on earth did the two of you meet?"

Laura chuckled. "Car accident, if you'd believe it. He hit me."

"And you actually agreed to go out with him?" Clint asked incredulously.

"We've been together for a little over two years now."

Clint glanced down at her left hand. "What, no ring yet?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're happy where we are." Her phone rang. "Excuse me," she said as she flipped her phone open and turned away from him.

"What? Really? You were supposed to be another week! Yes! Yes, I'll be right home!" She hung up the phone, huge grin on her face.

"Look, it was great meeting you, but I have to—"

Clint waved her off. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I get it. You need to get home to your man."

Laura put some bills on the counter and waved goodbye to the bartender.

He watched her retreating back. So that was Coulson's girlfriend. Now if only he could get him to admit he had one. Seriously, they were on the same team. How have the two of them been seeing each other for _two whole years_ and Phil not telling his friends about it?


	12. Present

_July 30, 2009_

Phil missed being home for his birthday by about two weeks. At first he thought Laura might be upset by that. He could tell she wanted to plan something. He had barely been home a few hours and taking a well-needed hot shower when she stuck her head into the bathroom.

"Hey, we're going out tomorrow night."

He stuck his head out of the shower curtain. "We are?"

Laura rolled her eyes at him. "I found out Clint and Natasha are in the country and just happen to be on leave at the moment. We're celebrating your birthday."

Phil ducked back into the shower to hide his expression. He already knew the assassins were on leave because they were on the mission with him. "What are we doing?" he called back out.

"Dinner and drinks."

"Anything on the docket for tonight?" he asked as he shut off the water.

"No…" She drew the response out coyly.

"That sounds," he pulled the curtain aside and froze.

She posed, leaning against the door jam in a slinky purple negligee. "Come here," she murmured and she straightened up. And when he did, she pulled him into a heated kiss.

"Happy birthday," she whispered when she pulled away.

He rested her forehead against hers. "If this was your plan the whole time, you could have just joined me in the shower."

She ran her hand across his chest. "Yeah, I could have, but then I wouldn't be wearing this."

He brushed the silky material at her waist. "I like it." He leaned in to kiss her again. "You're beautiful."

Laura pulled him to the bed.

Their lovemaking was slow and deliberate, yet filled with fire and passion. They never lost that even after all the years they'd been together. Phil supposed it was because they never knew when his next mission would come or if it would be his last. Even though they lived together-had been together for years- they still had a _carpe diem_ mindset about everything.

They were snuggling in the afterglow when Laura sat up. He tried to pull her back down, "Where are you going?"

She kissed him and stood up. "I still need to give you your real birthday gift."

"You didn't have to…" Oops. There it was: her _really, Phil?_ face. He smiled sheepishly.

She went to the closet, and after some rummaging, brought out a small, wrapped box. She handed it to him as he sat up. He turned it over in his hands to try and guess what it was, not truly able to completely turn off his "day job brain". It was a square box, about 5 inches, and wrapped precisely in silver paper. Topping it was a black bow he was certain was homemade. He slid the bow off and slipped his finger between paper and tape, careful not to tear the wrap.

After gently folding the paper next to him, Phil lifted the top of the box. His breath hitched at what was nestled inside.

It was a Captain America trading card.

More specifically, it was _the _Captain America trading card- the last one he needed to complete his set.

He reverently picked it up. The condition was excellent. While there was some wear, it was just a little around the edges. It still had most of its original shine. He brushed a finger over the painted face.

He looked up to Laura. "How did you find it?"

She smiled at his quiet enthusiasm. "I got really lucky. That, and I called in one of my colleagues to ensure it was genuine since trading cards aren't really my specialty."

Phil pulled her in for a kiss. "I love it."


	13. Freak Out

_December 12, 2007  
_Laura's POV

* * *

Laura opened her front door to a red-headed woman standing on her porch. "Can I help you?" she asked.

When the woman spoke, it was in a rich, smooth tones. "Are you Laura Schulz?"

She cocked her head. "Who's asking?" Having at least a vague idea of what Phil actually did for work had given her a healthy caution of strangers. _Always verify identity_. She could hear his voice in her head.

The woman pursed her lips. "You don't know me, but my name is Natasha Romanoff. I work with Phil Coulson."

Laura's breath caught. There were no good scenarios involving Phil's work contacting her about him. The absolute worst case was that this was a death notification. _But they'd send a chaplain, wouldn't they?_ She pushed all those thoughts aside for a moment and folded her arms. "Prove it," she insisted.

The woman, Natasha's, expression didn't really change. Her mouth might have quirked, but it was gone in a flash. "Anything I could tell you is classified. But I think you already knew that. I'm sure the two of you have worked out a safe word, but there's been an incident and he's been injured."

"Injured?" Laura asked, alarmed. "What happened?"

Natasha was firm. "I can't tell you. But," she fished out her phone. "I can prove that he was injured." After pressing a few buttons, she handed it to Laura.

Laura held the phone in limp hands. The photo was a close-up of Phil's face, badly bruised. He was intubated and clearly unconscious. "Which hospital?" She asked weakly.

Romanoff's eyes softened slightly. "Inova Fairfax in Falls Church. I can drive you if you'd like."

In that moment, Laura didn't care if Natasha Romanoff might not be who she claimed. All she wanted was to get to Phil. "Yes, please."

When they arrived at the Phil's hospital room door, the men guarding shifted when they saw Laura. One look from Natasha and they looked the other way. Laura made a note to herself that if she ever saw the woman again she would ask who she really was. The redhead nodded at her and stepped back to let her enter the room on her own.

Phil lay motionless on the bed, attached to all sorts of wires, tubes, and beeping machines. Underneath all the purple bruising and swelling, he was pale—frighteningly pale.

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. It was if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. It felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest. Blood pounded in her ears and her fingers started to feel tingly.

"I…I can't…" she shook her head. "I can't do this." She rushed out of the room and down the nearest stairwell to the lobby floor. When she burst outside, she collapsed on the curb with a sob. Tears ran down her face as she struggled to breathe. She heaved, her breaths coming out as nothing more than choked sobs.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?"

"Does it fucking look like I'm okay?" She shouted back. "Leave me alone!"

"Laura?"

"I said l-leave me a-alone!"

A slim body sat next to her. It was Natasha. "I'm sorry. I know that was hard to walk into."

"What happened?" Laura whispered.

"I can't—"

"—tell me," Laura finished. She looked at her knees. "I don't think I can do this. I love him, but I can't deal with the secrecy." She drew a shaky breath. "I knew going into this that I wouldn't know where he goes or what he does. But I can't watch him die. I can't stand the knowledge that he might die in some godforsaken hole in some backassward part of the globe and I won't know it."

Natasha looked at her. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. Look at me." Laura did. "Phil is… a friend. So what I am going to ask is that you wait until he wakes up to make that decision. Because if you take off and make me tell him you're gone when he wakes up, there is no corner of this planet you can hide where I won't find you. They won't be able to prove you even existed."

The woman picked herself up and walked away.

Sometime later, when Laura finally collected herself, she made her way back to the ICU.

From where she was sitting, Natasha nodded at her.


	14. Quitting

Note: Directly Follows last chapter, "Freak Out"

_December 15, 2007_

* * *

Phil regained consciousness slowly. The first sense to come back was his hearing. He would drift in and out of a state of semi-awareness. The voices he heard were murmurs of indeterminate gender and he couldn't comprehend what they were saying.

The second was smell. The air was sterile: rubbing alcohol and medicine.

He briefly awoke to waves of pain in his torso, but a woman rushed in and fiddled with something next to him with a few hushed words and he quickly drifted off again.

The next time he woke up, it was for good. He blinked, and the room slowly came into focus. He saw Natasha in the corner, and she immediately noticed he was awake.

"How?" he croaked out.

She handed him a cup of water that was on the table next to the bed. "You've been unconscious for just over three days."

He tried to hold the cup of water, but his motor skills weren't quite there yet. He was fought off embarrassment as the spy had to help him press the cup to his lips. He took careful sips, not wanting to start choking on the water.

When he drained the cup, he asked, "What happened?"

Natasha leveled him with a stare. "What do you remember?"

Phil thought hard. Then, "A.I.M cell. Yemen."

She nodded. "Your asset double-crossed you. When you didn't check in, Fury sent me." Her forehead furrowed. "You shouldn't be doing missions solo, Phil."

He raised an eyebrow at her and her mouth twitched in response. "I realize your skillset exceeds my own, but if you had a partner you might not have been taken." She paused. "You have people to think about now."

Phil grew concerned. "Does Laura know where I am?"

"I brought her. There was some sort of overnight emergency at her work that she left to deal with, or she would have been here."

"How did she react?" Phil asked carefully.

The look Natasha gave him made him think that she was weighing the option of lying to him. "She was… very upset. If you want my honest opinion…" She trailed off, giving Phil the opportunity to tell her to stop speaking if he wanted to. When he nodded, she continued, "I don't think she can handle another episode like this. She doesn't have the constitution for it."

Phil sighed heavily. "What are the odds of her quitting over this?"

"You've kept your relationship with her private for as long as I've known you, so I can't speak to how healthy it is. But if she decides to leave you, I don't think it'll be because of this."

Although in the grand scheme of things the two of them have only known each other for a relatively short period of time, Phil recognized the glint in her eyes. "You threatened her."

Natasha's face was a blank mask.

"Agent Romanoff, I can handle my own affairs." It might have been more threatening if he wasn't so raspy from being intubated.

They stared at each other for a moment longer until she abruptly stood. "I will tell the nurse's station you're awake."

She left him to ponder how exactly he was going to fix things.


	15. Moonlight

_November 9, 2013_

* * *

"So, A.C., you got anybody waiting at home?"

Phil looked up as Skye plopped down on the opposite chair. It was late and the only light in the Bus' lounge area aside from his small book lamp was the light emanating from the full moon.

"Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table. "Who are you? My dad?"

He snorted softly, acknowledging the jab.

"So…?" she prodded.

"Why so curious?" he countered.

The young woman shrugged. "Kinda want to know if my life will still be a life years from now, or if it'll just be the job."

He pondered the comment a moment before answering. "I do."

Skye made a "go on" motion with her hand.

Phil sighed. "My old team."

"Any girlfriends? Boyfriends? Romantic partners outside the gender binary?"

He didn't answer, and Skye seemed to take that as an answer on its own. "Do any of them know you're alive? I know that's Level 7 Classified." She had a concerned look on her face.

He chucked softly. "They weren't supposed to."

Her head tilted in consideration. "So how did they find out?"

"She threatened Director Fury. I hear it was a sight to behold." He smiled proudly.

Skye's eyes widened, impressed. "How the hell did she do that?"

"She was using her authority as next of kin and health care proxy to take custody of my body for a proper funeral. The director tried to misdirect her and she threatened to go to the press."

Skye bit her lip. "He can't have taken that well. How did she even make it out of the building?"

Phil's grin widened. "She brought Tony Stark with her."

Skye burst out laughing- doubled over, belly laugh laughing. She brushed the tears out of her eyes. "Oh, that's epic!"

Of course it was. When Tony Stark focused on something, he was like a dog with an old bone. He'd gnaw and gnaw and gnaw at something until he got what he wanted. He had the annoyance factor and the influence. Once you got Pepper Potts involved, you had another genius and a team of high-priced lawyers to deal with.

"She sounds amazing."

Phil sighed wistfully. "She is."

"When did you last get to see her?"

He worried the edges of the book he had been reading absentmindedly. "It's been a few months." Phil didn't mention that he was sure Fury assigned him to the mobile response team as payback for the shit Laura pulled to prove he was alive.

"I'm sorry."

Phil did his little head-tilt version of a shrug. "It's nothing we haven't had to deal with before. She has her job and I have mine. We make it work."

"Yeah." Then she froze, "Shit. Coulson, do you have any kids?"

He deduced the track her brain took to get to that question. Serious relationship of clearly many years… long periods of separation. It didn't take a detective to figure out that she was concerned he was an absent father.

"No. We decided a long time ago that having children wasn't for us."

Skye nodded. "Hey, that's your decision and I respect that."

Phil looked at his watch and rose. "I'm going to leave you to it." Before he turned to walk away, he added, "I'd appreciate it if you kept this conversation between the two of us."

She smiled. "You got it, Coulson."


	16. Bus

_March 31, 2014_

* * *

"You know, when you said 'bus' I knew you didn't mean a Volkswagen. I didn't quite expect a B-52. How do you _hide_ this thing?"

Phil resisted the urge to rub his temples. _Stark, just...stop._ "How did I get you here without anyone from the media noticing?" He shot back.

Stark appeared to consider it for half a second. "Touche." He recovered. "Not that I don't _love_ seeing your new digs, but why am I here and why is here," he looked around exaggeratedly, "Canada? Canada, really? Moose aren't really my thing."

Phil counted backwards from five to regain some patience. Interactions with Tony Stark usually required more than that, but his team was due back soon and he wanted this meeting private. He couldn't afford more than a 5 second breathing exercise. "I need a second opinion."

Tony, recognizing that there was more seriousness in Phil's face than was usual, grew concerned. "Sure. On what?"

Phil handed him a file and a small case. "I need you to run a sample of my blood."

Tony's eyes flicked from the file to Phil. "Does Laura…?"

Phil cut him off. "Laura doesn't know anything. I don't even really know. I found…" He shook his head. "It's classified. But I just need you to run the sample and compare it to what my medical specialist found. The report's in the file."

Stark tucked the package under his arm as he flipped through the folder. "I might need to bring Bruce in on this. As much as it pains me to say, I may be a genius, but he's the doctor."

"Tony, this isn't to go beyond the two of you. You can't tell Barton or Romanoff, not Steve Rogers, and under no circumstances are you to tell Laura."

"Phil, whatever this is, she has a right to know!" he protested.

The agent was firm. "You are not to tell her."

"Jesusfuck, Phil, she's you're wife!"

"Did you tell Pepper when you were dying from the plutonium?" Phil countered, jaw firm and eyes hard.

Tony froze at that. "Are you?"

Phil exhaled through his nose. "I don't know."

The genius rubbed his face tiredly with his free hand. "Bruce and I will run the tests for you. He'll respect your right to privacy. I don't like it."

"Frankly, I don't really care-"

Tony spoke over him. "I don't like it. She's almost lost you twice already. If you're actually dying, you better tell her. Or I will."

Phil sighed. If it was the only way to get the man to agree… "Fine."


End file.
